Berry Watching
by IAmTheLonelyHeart
Summary: "It's a long explanation and Puck realizes as he's saying it that he spends way too much time Berry-watching. He almost makes it sound like a sport."


**Alternatively titled "Puckleberry Attempt #1", this was my first try at _Glee_ fanfiction. (I wrote it last summer, which is why it's between seasons one and two.)**

**Disclaimer: I don't own _Glee_.**

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Puck finds her in the glee room after everyone's gone home. She sits on the bleachers with a sad look in her eyes and he stands just inside the door watching her. Then he speaks. "I know you're still into him—St. Douche or whatever."

"St. James," she says, automatically correcting him, but her voice is unsteady like she doesn't believe it herself. "And why do you say that?"

"I saw you yesterday listening to your iPod. You put your recording of 'Run, Joey, Run' on there and you were listening to it, weren't you? I know it's him you're hung over cause when Finn sat next to you, you pulled out your headphones and sat on your iPod." It's a long explanation and Puck realizes as he's saying it that he spends way too much time Berry-watching. He almost makes it sound like a sport. And kind of a dirty one. Berry-watching, he likes that.

She tucks her legs under herself and her skirt rides up. It's nothing indecent but Puck notices the new few inches of uncovered leg and not the way her eyes move about the room nervously. "You're right. That's one hundred percent right." He doesn't notice that her voice wavers either. "But you'd better not be thinking of bringing this up with Finn, Noah. I know something about you, too."

The thought of telling never even crossed his mind. He and Finn still aren't back to being bros, but Finn's not about to stick a knife in his gut either. There's no way he'd want to jeopardize their peace. Not if he can help it, yeah, and he's trying. He knows trying should include treating Finn's girl right—but not _too_ right—but Rachel's accusation catches him off guard and he springs into badass-mode. About time, cause he's been too soft with her. Now she's blackmailing him? The Puckerman doesn't go for that shit. "Yeah? And just what the fuck do you think you know?"

"I've seen the way you're always looking at Santana. I know you still like her. Don't worry, I won't tell Quinn. I've seen you with Quinn, you're sweet with her. It must be nice to have that."

This time, he doesn't miss her shaking voice. Is the girl dense? She's jealous of Quinn? That's messed up; Rachel's got everything. He wants to swear at her, yell at her, shake her. He can't. "Yeah, it's Santana." Even as he lies, the truth runs through his mouth like a fucking monologue. _It's not Santana, I'm checking out. Okay, fine, that's bullshit. I'm totally checking Santana out. But only because I'm imagining you, Berry, looking fucking hot in that short-as-hell Cheerios skirt. And damn, Berry, in my head you look fine. I'd look at Brittany instead, but honestly? That chick's vacant stare scares the crap out of me. It's like she knows I'm looking at her, but she's too dumb to do anything about it. At least Santana flips me off._

Rachel must take his silent act for some shitty sensitive crap, cause she comes across the room to him and pulls him back to sit next to her. "I'm sorry. I know how it feels to like someone else."

She sits there with him, her hand rubbing his back in the universal gesture of comfort. Like he's upset. Like she has to be careful with him. Like he's fucking _fragile_. He lets her get away with it even though it clashes with his reputation as a bamf and a stud, because he doesn't want to upset her and it kind of feels…nice. Which also clashes with his reputation—until Berry does something he didn't anticipate.

"You know," she says slowly, trying to pretend what she's about to say is something she's just thought of, "it's funny, really. The last time we were together, we were both after different people. I wanted Finn and you wanted Quinn. Now we have them, and we're still unhappy, and…well, here we are."

He nods in acknowledgment to be polite, but really? What the fuck is this, some freaking analysis of his behavior and shit? Cause this is not what he signed up for.

Then she pulls her hand from his back and Puck thinks angrily that this is definitely not what he wanted. Until she leans in and suddenly they're making out and Puck thinks that he was wrong. This is _definitely_ what he wanted.

Their kisses start out rough, but then Berry pulls back for air and gives a little nervous laugh and Puck knows he's got to get her back in or it's all over. So he curls one hand around her neck and brings her back down for a mind-blowing sweet-as-fuck kiss that she did not expect to come from Noah Puckerman. And he smiles against her mouth knowing she's totally surprised.

The second time they break for air, he allows her to say a few words. "Noah, I don't think we…" She shakes her head and signals for him to let her start over. That's not what she wants to say. She wants this and she's fairly sure he does too, and if Finn and Quinn would be unhappy about this little arrangement, that's just too bad for them, isn't it?

She thinks long and hard about her next words. It's not that she has trouble coming up with them—no, they've been in the back of her mind for ages, she knows that—it's just that she's unsure if she wants to say them to him. She and Noah don't exactly have a record of honesty. That's why she finds it unexplainable that now, of all times, she suddenly feels he's obliged to the truth.

"Noah, I…I allowed you to believe a falsehood earlier. You were misled into thinking that I was still, in your words, 'hung up over Jesse'. I'm not. I allowed you to believe it because I was worried if I told you the truth…to be quite honest, I felt certain that the truth would make you run from the room. But then, uh, you were able to change my mind. And now I feel like I have to tell you that, well, it's not Jesse I'm hung up over. It's you."

For a second he just sits there. Admittedly halfway into her speech, she lost his attention. All he wanted to do was make-out with her, what the hell was she ruining it for with speaking? But then he convinced himself to continue listening. And now he needed a little time to absorb it. Berry digs him, huh? Damn. He knew she wanted him—hell, every girl _wants_ him—but she seems really into him. And yeah, he wants her too. Fuck, what's he waiting for again? This thing's a no-brainer.

So instead of speaking – because he doesn't want to even think about what'd come out of his mouth – he pulls her onto his lap instead. That's a good enough answer, right? Then he remembers the extent of Berry's crazy. _She's insecure_, he thinks, surprising himself with how sensitive he's getting. _Except_, he adds in his head, _there's a good chance you're gonna get some with your best friend's girl—again. You're still a bamf._

He's smiling, but he doesn't let his badassness stop him from getting it on with Berry. He doesn't want to fuck this up, not yet, so he leans in close and says against her mouth, "It was always you too, Berry, not Santana."

That seems to do the trick nicely, and the two are more or less glued to the mouth for the next hour until the janitor comes in to lock up. But after that, there's his truck and, later that night when her dads are asleep, her bedroom.

And the whole time Puck's thinking that the sport he made up, Berry-watching? It led to this, so it's way better than anything else. Probably even better than football.

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